When it starts to rain


When it’s about to rain, and the heavens rumble,

the white clouds turn heavy and black.

But then, this is just morning, and…

A poet would hide behind the cover of his book and ink,

scribbling words that make his soul glad.

Now, the rain brings the day some lazy thoughts,

pushing the cold to the scantily clothed,

and teaching one how to sleep in daylight.


Discover more from Okechukwu’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.


Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Discover more from Okechukwu’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading